What To Do?
by P.B. Fluff
Summary: Liberty's Kids Fluff! Yay! PBS Kids rocks! Yay! James and Sarah don't know what to do... about eachother!


By the way… None of these characters are mine! I did not invent them or the storyline of Liberty's Kids. I just like to write fanfics about them.

Sarah had read and reread the letter enough times to wear out her eyes but again found herself reading James's cramped script in an attempt to pull something from in between the lines…

_But Sarah, how are you?_

It seemed he'd been concerned about her! The first time she'd read it she'd nearly jumped for joy. He was busy being chased all over the Carolinas and here he wanted to see if she was alright.

_I can't wait to read your story…_ she'd read on.

Or perhaps he'd just wanted to know how the interview with Jefferson was going.

The trouble was, she could never be sure which it was. If only she knew one way or the other. Even if he didn't feel the same way she did she could at least know and learn to let her feelings subside. She dared not think of what might happen if he admitted he did feel the same way about her… Sadly, she thought she'd probably be cool and distant with him as always, too afraid of commitment to own up to her feelings.

She was almost happy they both went their separate ways so often now. Things had been different ever since she'd been back and she didn't know what to do whenever he was around. On the other hand, this left her to missing him terribly and searching his letters for subtle clues and hoping that the letters she'd sent to him weren't too revealing of her feelings.

And now that he was back things were even better… or worse. She didn't know which. She reveled in the pleasure of the butterflies in her stomach whenever he got too near but at the same time the feeling was almost nausea due to something barely short of a newfound terror she had of him.

She sighed in frustration. _What am I to do? She wondered to herself. These were the times she missed her mother most. Her mother always knew what to do. Her mother always knew best… that gave her an idea…_

_Dear Mother, _she wrote…

Wishing desperately for someone to talk to about whatever this odd feeling in the pit of his stomach was, James flopped down onto his bed.

Sarah's letters were scattered all over the floor. He'd been trying to find some kind of clue in them. Some kind of hidden conformation of how she felt about him. He'd failed and given up in frustration.

_It's only Sarah, _a voice broke through his thoughts. _Why should I care what she__ thinks of me?_

_Because you're in _love _with her, that's why, _a voice in his mind answered.

"Am not!" he shouted aloud.

"James?" he heard Henri's French accent through his door. "Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine!" James shouted. "Now go away! I'm tired!"

"Moses says you've been acting very strange. He says if you weren't so young he'd think you were in _love_." Henri made sure to put extra emphasis on the last word of his sentence.

"I am not!" James shouted, very glad no one could see his face go red.

"Well then stop making such a racket! Other people are trying to sleep too!" Henri grumped.

Henri didn't know anything. He was just a little kid…

_But Henri didn't say the l-word. Moses did…_

"Stupid word!" James said aloud. "Stupid emotion! Stupid idea if you ask me…"

_You didn't think so when you were away from her._

This was true. When he'd been chased by Tories all over the south things had been far simpler. He could daydream about her and no one would be any the wiser…

"Stupid daydreams!" he cursed his thoughts.

Sarah couldn't stand it. Being around James this long was going to tear her apart.

They were back on the fronts reporting but that was just the problem. It was they. Together. They were able to laugh together, certainly, but awkward silences filled the gaps between their arguments, jokes, and conversations.

But there was adventure again! She rejoiced for the fact that at least she could be so near him and be back reporting, back doing what she loved to do.

James could have kicked himself. _Why did I do it, he wondered aloud. He'd volunteered to leave Sarah to cover another story. At first he felt so relieved almost to get away from the awkwardness but he'd miss her again. He just couldn't win either way._

Sarah was worried about James. He said he'd write but she hadn't gotten a letter from him in a very long time. Surely she would have gotten one by now? 

There was a burning ache in her heart as her eyes brimmed with tears. _What if something happened to him?_ She wondered. 

She stepped out of the tent she was in for some fresh air and who should she run into but…

"James!" she yelled, fully elated. Without thinking she threw her arms around the tall, skinny American boy disregarding the fact that he was extremely dirty and his usually well groomed blond hair was disheveled and grimy.

She pulled back in an instant when she realized what she'd done. "Er- you look terrible," was the best recovery she could come up with.

He remembered that day very well. She'd almost seemed concerned about him. Like she'd missed him, been worried about him, even maybe…

_No,_ James told himself. _Definitely not._

But what did it mean then…?

_That does it,_ he thought. _I'm going to find out. If I don't I'll go mad._

"Where are you going?" Henri asked. "You could miss a – a what do you call it? A linehead?"

"It's headline," James replied irritably. "And just come and get me when it looks like something worth writing about is going to happen."

He made his way to the tent where she slept.

"Sarah?" he called from outside.

"Yes? Come in," came a voice that nearly made him melt. Gathering his courage and what was left of his wobbly knees he entered.

"I can't believe this," he didn't mean to tease her but… "We have groundbreaking news and you're in here writing to your mother?"

"No," she replied stiffly. "I mean just give me a minute. You go on ahead," she said as she straightened quickly.

Sarah's cheeks burned. She'd been writing to her mother about _him._ She'd asked her for advice about what she should do.

"If you weren't writing to your mother then what are you writing?" he wanted to know. Why did his taunting eyes have to be so blue just then? 

"Nothing I just- I was just –" she trailed off.

"Where did you find a story?" 

"No it's not – I swear – I…"

"Come on let me see it. I won't make fun if it's bad."

He couldn't see the letter, that was all there was to it. Sarah moved to put the letter away but James reached across her to grab it.

She didn't know how it happened, but somehow the two of them had toppled to the ground and James had wound up on top of her, his face inches from hers.

His eyes were wide with what looked like sheer terror. For a moment, Sarah almost felt as though he might be leaning into her but she must have imagined it. He cleared his throat and moved to pick himself up off of her.

Sarah just couldn't let him get this close and break away like this. Mustering all the bravery she possessed, she lifted her head up to meet her lips with his in a soft, swift kiss.

He looked down at her his eyes wide again. He looked shocked. She was almost sorry she'd done it until he had the sense to respond.

"James," they heard Henri call not many moments later. Sarah and James scrambled to their feet Sarah's face flushing with the realization of how very improper that would have looked to anyone.

"What is it?" James called through the tent. His hair was slightly disheveled again, though this time from a rather different adventure.

"You might want to report on what is happening!"

"Alright I'll be there in a minute!"

Shyly, he turned back to Sarah. He looked at her as though he didn't know what to say. But he didn't need to say anything.

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. She thought it very sweet that often James could find a million things to shout at her but he had a newfound shyness when it came to this deeper form of friendship.

They broke apart.

"Go on then," she told him. "Go get your story."

He looked as though he very much wanted to do just this, but he also looked as though he wanted to stay. Certainly, she wanted him to stay too, but she wouldn't be cruel enough to keep him from a great story.

"Go on. I'll catch up in a minute."

He nodded before giving her a quick kiss and squeezing her hand and then he was gone.

Sarah smiled to herself as she quickly finished her letter to her mother.

_Dear Mother,_

_I wrote to you before that I didn't know what to do about James. I don't know what or how it happened but I don't particularly know if anything needs to be done now. He kissed me mother! Or I kissed him, I don't particularly remember or know, or even care if it was only a dream. If it was only a dream, I shall remember it always._

_Love,_

_Sarah_


End file.
